


only fools

by hajiiwa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Fantasizing, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 09:38:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hajiiwa/pseuds/hajiiwa
Summary: “Well…” Bokuto gulps. “I-I have a crush. On someone. A-and I need help on how to ask hi– er, this person out.”He’s nervous, still, so Kuroo just nudges his shoulder. “Relax,” he urges, smiling a bit. “So who is it?”Bokuto looks away. “I… won’t tell you.”“Can you give me hints?”“Smart. Pretty. Dark hair…” Bokuto gives a whimsical smile. “My best friend.”





	only fools

**Author's Note:**

> this was actually a writer's inktober prompt, so it's posted in that fic as well! i just liked this one so much, i couldn't resist. nothing's really explicit, though you should heed the tags. this one's a bit sad.

In hindsight, Kuroo had every reason to see it coming.

They’re sitting on the bleachers, watching a practice match between two smaller teams. Kuroo’s got his legs stretched out onto the next row but Bokuto is weirdly folded into himself, looking small and almost confused. Kuroo glances over. “Something on your mind?”

Bokuto hesitates for a heartbeat before nodding, chewing on his bottom lip. “Can I… talk to you for a second?” he asks, and Kuroo blinks.

“Sure.” He glances down at the court. “‘Round back?”

“That’d be great,” says Bokuto, standing quickly and shaking out his hands. Kuroo sends him a quizzical glance but the ace is already striding away.

Kuroo buttons up his jacket as they’re greeted with the cool air of late winter. “So?” he prompts. “What’s this about?”

“I need your… advice,” Bokuto says, voice slow and bizarrely halting. Kuroo snorts.

“And you’re coming to me, not Akaashi?” he asks, surprised. “You go to that guy for everything.”

Bokuto coughs. Kuroo’s not sure what to make of the pink tinging his cheeks. “Can’t– can’t go to him for this one.”

“Alright,” says Kuroo after a second. He’s not really liking the direction this conversation is going in. “So what do you need advice on?”

“Well…” Bokuto gulps. “I-I have a crush. On someone. A-and I need help on how to ask hi– er, this person out.”

He’s nervous, still, so Kuroo just nudges his shoulder. “Relax,” he urges, smiling a bit. “So who is it?”

Bokuto looks away. “I… won’t tell you.”

“Can you give me hints?”

“Smart. Pretty. Dark hair…” Bokuto gives a whimsical smile. “My best friend.”

Kuroo’s face  _burns_. Pretty, huh? “S-so, you want to confess to… this person?”

“Yeah!” Bokuto nods. “I-I really want to tell them before I graduate because, well…”

“I understand.” Kuroo’s heart is beating out of control and he can’t stop _smiling, damn it,_  but he eggs Bokuto on nonetheless. “I think you should just… go for it.”

Bokuto seems unimpressed. “Really?”

“Fuck yeah,” Kuroo laughs, light and airy. “I mean, you’re totally awesome. Whoever it is, if they reject you, I’ll… punch them.”

The other boy laughs as well, though it’s loud and boisterous. “That’s a funny visual,” he says, and Kuroo’s gut flips. Punching yourself does seem sort of silly.

“God, I…” Bokuto shakes his head and grins at the ground, genuine and warm. “We both know who I’m talking about, so why don’t we just say ‘him’?”

Kuroo feels, in all honesty, about ready to throw up. “Yeah,” he says, voice soft and a little shaky. “W-we can say that.”

Bokuto beams and hugs him tightly. “Thanks, Tetsu. I really think I can do it.” He breathes in deep. “Akaashi is so… particular, though.”

Oh.

Wait,  _what_?

“I mean…” Bokuto scratches his neck, smiling shyly. “I don’t want to mess it up. I want to impress him.”

Kuroo’s excited nerves turn to genuine nausea the longer Bokuto talks.

Of  _course_.

Pretty. Smart.

Bokuto’s… best friend.

Kuroo looks away, and  _fuck_ , his eyes are stinging. Any hope he had possessed is crushed, utterly, a dark sort of pain clawing at the inside of his chest and screaming for recognition.

Christ, this  _hurts_.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” says Kuroo, voice noticeably more hollow than before. It passes over Bokuto’s head, however, who’s still anxiously muttering to himself about what kind of flowers he should bring. Kuroo grits out a half-assed excuse and holds up his phone before turning, his head spinning as he starts to walk away, hands jammed deep into his pockets.

This wasn’t right. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t  _right_ , this wasn’t supposed to  _hurt_ so much. Bokuto had always made him feel… well, happy.

He inhales unsteadily, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve as he makes his way for the train and hoping no one notices the slight shake of his shoulders.

***

He doesn’t hear from Bokuto until the next day. It’s a picture of Akaashi holding a bouquet partially over his face and Bokuto leaning over, kissing his cheek, the photo slightly blurry and followed by a ridiculous amount of heart emojis.

Kuroo stares at it, at  _him_ , for too long. He throws his phone down on the ground and grips onto his knees, chest heaving from his shaky breaths.

***

“Hey, Tetsu!  _Tetsu_!”

Kuroo flinches and turns just in time to brace himself as Bokuto throws himself forward, into a secure hug. “Where’ve you been for the past few days?! I’ve missed you!”

Akaashi’s slowly walking toward him as well, Bokuto’s jacket tucked under one arm. Kuroo forces his eyes away. “Busy,” he says, carefully prying Bokuto’s hands off of him. “Didn’t want to crowd the lovebirds.”

Bokuto laughs, warm and full, wrapping his arms around Akaashi’s neck and grinning at him. “Aww~ you didn’t have to!”

“He’s already been all over me,” says Akaashi, slightly amused, the corners of his mouth twitching as he watches Bokuto. Kuroo can’t help but notice that it’s a little detached, almost, like he was viewing Bokuto for something to comment on rather than just looking out of admiration.

Maybe Kuroo’s been in his head too long, stewing over hypotheticals. He really doesn’t know anymore.

“I’m sure,” he grits out, noticing how Akaashi’s analytical eyes then turn to him. His lip curls and Akaashi’s eyebrow raises just slightly.

“Well, ‘Kaashi and I have a hot date,” Bokuto boasts, kissing Akaashi’s cheek loudly.

“Sorry to keep you,” says Kuroo curtly, turning away. He hears Bokuto murmur in a confused tone but he just walks away, guilt and bitter resentment rising hotter than bile in his throat.

***

Bokuto had left a jacket at Kuroo’s house.

It’s nothing special– a greyish piece with yellow trim around the zipper and collar. Kuroo had never really liked it, since he teased that it was too similar a color to Bokuto’s hair, but now that it’s sitting over his desk chair and staring at him, Kuroo can’t look away from it.

Slowly, he rises from his bed and crosses the room. The house is silent at the late hour of night so his swallow seems deafening as he takes the jacket in his hands, turning it over and blinking quickly. He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing when he lifts the jacket, burying his face in it and inhaling after a second.

Bokuto’s one of those people with a distinct  _smell_ , one that’s far from unpleasant. Kuroo’s stomach twists as he recognizes Bokuto’s shampoo and cologne, then the scent he can’t place, the unique one that clings to his skin and clothes. Kuroo’s eyes flutter closed as he grips onto the jacket.

_“Oh~ Tetsu, did you miss me?”_

_Kuroo’s eyes open as Bokuto steps in, closing the door behind himself with a grin. “You must really love me.”_

_“No shit,” Kuroo laughs, lowering the jacket and smiling back. Bokuto beams at him and walks closer, going on his tiptoes as he cups Kuroo’s cheeks and–_

Kuroo’s eyes snap open in reality this time. His heart had began to pound as he looks down at the jacket in his hands, gut writhing. He carefully walks backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he falls against it.

_“You’re awfully eager,” Kuroo says between kisses, feet tripping over one another as Bokuto’s hands fist in his shirt and gently push him back against the bed._

_“I can’t help myself,” answers Bokuto with a wink, one leg swinging over Kuroo’s hips as he straddles him smoothly. “Can you blame me?”_

_“No,” hums Kuroo, grinning and running his hands down Bokuto’s chest. “I’m a sexy beast.”_

Fuck, this probably–  _definitely_ – isn’t healthy. Kuroo’s hands tremble a little as he yanks a blanket up over himself, holding Bokuto’s jacket securely and giving a quiet groan as one hand slips down beneath the covers. He tries to imagine how Bokuto would feel, how he would sound, whether or not Bokuto would look at him with the excited gleam in his eyes that he gets when he looks at Akaashi.

_When Bokuto leans back down his shirt has been tossed aside and Kuroo makes an appreciative sound in the back of his throat, blunt fingernails digging into Bokuto’s tanned skin. “Fuck,” he slurs, feeling Bokuto’s mouth leave a searing trail down to his neck, “you’re really hot.”_

_Bokuto just chuckles a little, his warm, calloused hands sliding down Kuroo’s stomach to pull at his belt. “Thanks, babe,” he says, sucking gently and making Kuroo twitch in surprise._

_“Oi, careful! I don’t want marks,” he lies, shuddering as his shorts are yanked down. Bokuto glances up and his eyes are gleaming mischievously._

_“You don’t?” he asks, now kissing down Kuroo’s torso, ghosting over the fabric of his boxers down to his inner thighs. Teeth graze over his skin. “What about down here, can I leave them here?”_

Kuroo jerks as his eyes snap open and a quiet gasp is torn from his throat, heart beating wildly in his chest. He had never done anything like this before, but his imagination was getting away from him, unable to chase away the thought of Bokuto’s hands, mouth,  _anything_ touching his skin. His shaking hand pushes down his boxers and his fingers wrap around his cock, already hard and flushed red.

_“Ahh– fuck, Koutarou,” Kuroo pants, his back arching as Bokuto’s tongue runs slowly over the pinkish marks blooming on his inner thighs, “j-just touch me already.”_

_“Where’s the fun in that?” Bokuto asks, a grin stretching across his face as he kisses back up Kuroo’s body until their lips are smashed together. Kuroo moans into the touch and squeezes his eyes shut, hips rolling up with a sense of desperation._

_Bokuto pulls away and Kuroo can tell that he’s going to say something teasing, so he gets ahead of it. “Koutarou,” he breathes, hips still shifting in subtle movements as he stares up at Bokuto, “_ please _, Kouta, I want you to touch me. Can you do that, p– please?”_

_A pretty blush covers Bokuto’s cheeks and he nods, almost shy, throat pulsing around a swallow as he kisses Kuroo sweetly and slips a hand between his legs. Kuroo all but melts at the touch, body twitching and shuddering as Bokuto’s hand wraps around his cock._

_“Oh, fuck,” he breathes, hips driving up into Bokuto’s fist after he’s pulled away for air, “d-don’t stop, Kouta, you feel amazing.”_

_Bokuto’s still blushing as he buries his face in Kuroo’s neck and kisses him over and over, wrist twisting and fingers squeezing and hand pumping quickly until Kuroo is panting and clutching desperately to Bokuto’s shoulders._

_“Good,” Kuroo whispers, feeling heat crawl through his stomach. “A-ah, fuck, Koutarou I can’t– I can’t hold it back, please don’t stop, please, please–”_

“ _Please_ ,” gasps Kuroo, and he barely has time to jam a couple of fingers into his mouth to stifle what would have been a loud moan as his release slams into him. His toes curl and his back arches off the bed as he groans around his fingers and gives a tiny little whimper, Bokuto’s jacket bunched up into his neck as his own hand continues to move rapidly.

_“Aww, you’re cute,” Bokuto coos, prying his own shirt away from Kuroo’s hands. “Don’t you want the real thing, twitchy?”_

_“Shut up,” Kuroo pants quietly, eyelashes fluttering as his hands reach out blindly for the other boy. Bokuto snuggles into his side and Kuroo sighs as his arms wind around Bokuto’s torso. “You’re warm.”_

_“So you’ve said,” hums Bokuto, voice soft and tender near Kuroo’s ear. “Do you feel okay?”_

_“I feel amazing,” Kuroo says, pressing in close and shivering. “I’m glad you’re here.”_

Kuroo’s eyes open slowly. He’s alone in his bedroom, Bokuto’s jacket clutched in one hand, his other dirtied with the product of his own longing.

***

Fukurodani and Nekoma have an overnight joint practice scheduled, and Kuroo is really beginning to regret it. He had already been trying to keep his distance from Bokuto, but as the captains of their team with an unabashed friendship, the awkwardness that had blossomed between them would become obvious. Bokuto’s jacket is buried shamefully in the bottom of his backpack as he steps into the gymnasium, heart pounding. Kenma, who almost definitely knows what’s going on by this point, watches him out of the corner of his eye. Kuroo just strides forward. “Bokuto.”

The other captain looks over and grins. “Tetsu! What’s up?”

Guilt jolts in Kuroo’s gut at the nickname. “You left a jacket over at my house a few weeks ago,” he says lamely, digging it out of his backpack and holding it out. “Figured you would want it back.”

Bokuto blinks. “Oh, thanks,” he says, a bit of his cheer fading from his voice. He takes the jacket and tilts his head. “It’s soft.”

“I washed it.” Kuroo couldn’t bear it if Bokuto’s scent lingered on any of his stuff. “I’m sorry?”

“No, it’s fine,” Bokuto says quickly, grinning again. “Thanks, Tetsu!”

“No problem,” says Kuroo, smiling tightly before turning away. Kenma watches him wordlessly.

Their first few matches go as expected, with Bokuto spurred on by the quiet approval from his setter and boyfriend. They tie 1-1 when they’re called away for dinner, teams dispersing into the showers before eagerly making their ways outside.

Kuroo, of course, finds himself doubling back after realizing he forgot his shampoo in one of the showers. He sighs as he pushes open the door, halting as he hears voices still inside.

“This is dangerous, Bokuto-san, we could get caught.”

Kuroo’s heart wrenches as he freezes in the doorway, mostly in shadow as his eyes drift toward the line of partially-obstructed showers. He spots Bokuto easily, dip-dyed hair wet and clinging to the back of his neck, broad, very bare shoulders visible above the barriers. Akaashi is almost completely hidden, his slimmer form tucked into Bokuto’s. The ace murmurs something Kuroo can’t hear and his eyes lock on the floor, gut twisting with sickening nausea.

He has to leave, now. Whatever he hears, whatever he sees, won’t be what he wants to.

Still, he can’t. He knows that it’s Akaashi Bokuto is with, it’s Akaashi Bokuto is currently kissing, touching, pressing against the cold wall of the shower.

It’s Akaashi that makes Bokuto give a low, startled moan.

Kuroo shivers and closes his eyes, trying not to listen yet straining for every sound.

“Mmph– wait, wait, I wanna try somethin’,” says Bokuto, and Kuroo carefully peeks his head around in time to see Akaashi get hauled into his line of view.

“H-holding me up isn’t safe,” Akaashi hisses, hands running through Bokuto’s hair. Bokuto gives a boisterous laugh and leans in again, kissing him over and over, neither of them noticing the flash of movement that was Kuroo ducking out of the locker room and gagging into a trash can.

***

The next day is torturous for Kuroo, since Akaashi’s shirt is a bit too low-cut.

Akaashi’s shirt doesn’t completely cover the marks blooming on his neck  _and_ Bokuto’s at the top of his game, which means that they get completely obliterated. The match ends with Fukurodani’s setter getting spun around and kissed, joyous and hard, right on the mouth. Kuroo’s throat closes up and he clenches his fists, ignoring Kenma’s wary, persistent gaze.

“Tetsu!” Bokuto waves and beams. “Good game!”

“Good game,” Kuroo agrees shortly, forcing on a smile. Akaashi is still watching him, eyes rather cold. Their gazes lock and Kuroo gains a degree of pride when Akaashi looks away first, but it’s immediately pounded into a dust when he just pulls Bokuto down and kisses him again.

Their coaches both grumble protests, Lev whoops, Komi catcalls, and Kuroo looks at the opposite wall.

God, he can’t do this. Especially not with Akaashi knowing, gloating.

Kuroo’s aware that he’s being antagonistic. He’s also aware of Bokuto’s  _happiness_ , infectious and pure, growing stronger and stronger when his calloused fingers slide between Akaashi’s thin ones. Kuroo refuses Kenma’s insistently disapproving, worried eyes as he jams a hand into his pocket and inhales through his teeth.

Of  _course_ it was Akaashi. Kuroo was a fool to think otherwise.

“Take five, captain,” Yaku recommends. “You look like you need some air.”

Most of his team is staring– god, was it that obvious?– and Kuroo gives a slight nod before turning and wrenching open the gymnasium door. He doesn’t notice Bokuto’s eyes tracking him out, but he wouldn’t have reacted otherwise anyway.

***

Kuroo’s sitting against the building, gazing up at the grey sky when the door opens again and Bokuto pokes his head out. “Tetsu? You okay?”

Perfect. “Yeah,” says Kuroo, though that doesn’t deter Bokuto from wandering over and plopping down next to him. His eyes have grown softer, Kuroo notices, thinking it was because of Akaashi. It wasn’t, but he didn’t know that.

“Is something wrong?” asks Bokuto quietly, glancing over, prompting Kuroo’s eyes to snap away. “You’ve been actin’ sort of weird.”

He doesn’t say anything for a second. “I miss you,” Bokuto admits, knocking their knees together. Kuroo blinks quickly and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip for a second, closing his eyes.

He can’t cry. Don’t cry, don’t cry, _don’t cry_ –

“Tetsurou?!”

Kuroo’s eyelids part slowly. He’s not crying, but his eyes are red and they feel a little swollen. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Bokuto insists. Fuck him, honestly, always being so kind and concerned. “What’s going on?”

Kuroo looks over at him, feeling his last thoughts of confusion and apprehension fade away in the worried gold of Bokuto’s irises. What else has he got to lose, really?

“I’m in love with you.”

Bokuto’s entire body goes stiff and Kuroo looks away. It felt good to finally say, but he knows the words are falling on unhearing ears, knows they’ll prompt awkward glances and the end of a long friendship. “And… I know I’m a dick for saying that.” Kuroo laughs bitterly. “Trust me, I… I do.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Bokuto says after a second, voice weirdly hollow. Kuroo shrugs half-heartedly.

“I was terrified of rejection. And now I know, I– I definitely would have gotten rejected.” He shakes his head. “Stupid. Doesn’t matter.”

“Not stupid,” Bokuto mumbles. “I’m just… I wish you would’ve told me.”

“It wouldn’t have ma–”

“It might have,” Bokuto interrupts, then flinches. “It… might have.”

Kuroo, unable to accept what he was hearing, scoffs and stands up. “I– look, I’m really sorry,” he says, sniffling a bit, “but watching you with him, watching him be all– all touchy and lovey and shit, it  _hurts_. It feels like I’ve been gutted, since I’ve spent  _way_ too long imagining what it would feel like to touch you the way he does.”

Bokuto’s eyes grow huge, from either hurt or shock, and Kuroo cusses before he looks away.

It’s a shitty thing, he knows. Bokuto’s dating his best friend, he’s incredibly happy. Kuroo has no right to say what he just did.

“… I’m gonna go,” Kuroo says, running a hand through his frizzy hair. “Just– I’m sorry. Just forget it.”

“How do you expect me to forget that?” Bokuto says, voice uncharacteristically harsh. Kuroo flinches and Bokuto shrinks away a little too, the silence stretching on between them. Kuroo kicks at some turn and spins on his heel, shame and regret simmering low in his gut, not turning when Bokuto scrambles to his feet.

“Tetsurou!”

He halts. Bokuto exhales shakily and Kuroo doesn’t protest when the shorter boy rounds to his front. “I’m… sorry,” he says, honesty seeping through everything he does, every word he says. “I’m really,  _really_ sorry, I’ve been such a dick–”

“You haven’t been.” Kuroo shakes his head fiercely. “Shut up. I was way out of line.”

Bokuto obviously wants to protest, but Kuroo silences him with an impatient wave of his hand. “I hope Akaashi makes you happy,” he says, shouldering past Bokuto and stalking inside.

If he would’ve turned, he would have seen Bokuto twist his hands and pace around anxiously, eyes watering just a little, seen him slam a hand into the wall of the gym and bury his face in the crook of his elbow.

Maybe Kuroo would have heard Bokuto sniffle, or more importantly–

“I would have been happy with you, too.”


End file.
